With all the excitement of the project, the job lists, the logistics, the online training and associated homework, my articles are tending to lag behind - it's now the end of January 2021 but in article time, it's more like end of July 2020!
This article is going to change that! Because instead of progressing article by article through my training, my first solo overnight passage, my first solo offshore passage, my first race, I thought that I would put it all together right here, right now.
Keep scrolling to find out about what I learnt so far during my: Training / First 12h Passage / First Offshore Passage / First race / First Gale
Training
Now the boat was ready to sail and its systems were go, the priority was to get some time on the water under my belt. To manoeuvre the boat and to develop my reflexes for tacking and gybing and to discover the different sails you read about in my previous article.
Not being used to single-handing, I found even just leaving the dock extremely intimidating let alone trying to hoist my main inside the harbour with other boats around! Then once I got out of the harbour, my mind would often go into overload as I tried to put away the fenders and mooring lines, hoist the Solent, avoid the navigation buoys, fishing pots, other boats and the rocks scattered South of St Aubin's Bay. Finally, I would be sailing and I would be able to have 5 minutes on the same course to breathe and relax.
Single-handed, you are your worst enemy and the frustration of a bad manoeuvre (a failed tack being notoriously easy in a Mini) and the fear of sailing within spitting distance of navigational markers or underwater (or imagined) rocks can make for the most intense emotional rollercoaster. The highs are super high and the lows are cosmic explosions of rage - luckily there's no one else to hear them!
But mistakes are useful if you learn from them - I learnt the value of anticipation. Being single-handed means you can't leave things to be done just in time because you don't have enough hands to do them all at once.
So, you learn to get the mooring lines and fenders ready before entering the harbour.
You learn to listen for commercial traffic and to turn around and come back later if the harbour is busy.
You learn to tighten the elastics holding the bowspirit up so that it doens't fall in the water and get stuck underwater against the bow, submerging the kite which you haven't hoisted yet.
You learn that the outboard throttle has to be in a particular position or it won't start. You also find out that you would have known this if you'd read the manual more closely! There's even a little diagram on the throttle handle to help! You learn that if it doesn't start even with the throttle in the correct position that perhaps it needs more fuel... the tank is only 1.1L after all.
You learn to let off a foot or two of mainsheet before a tack so that when it fills on the other tack, it doesn't turn you head to wind or send you back onto the tack you started on. You learn that very quickly after being head to wind, the boat starts to drift back so the steering is reversed. You learn that this can allow you to go the way you wanted.
You learn to set the autopilot with the tiller in the centre or the boat starts to slalom while the autopilot tries to compensate one way and then the other.
And it goes on, and this is the importance of training - every time out on the water is a chance to learn, a chance to gain confidence.
First 12h Passage
You can never finish learning but I was very conscious of my first race coming up at the end of September and nearing the end of August, I was keen to do a longer passage of around 24h to see how I would cope with sailing, navigating and catching some sleep.
I worked out a route of around 100 NM which I thought would take me around 24h. If it turned out that I was faster, I thought that I would add a loop around the Roches Douvres after rounding Guernsey and before heading home.
I was keen that my first attempt at a 24hr passage shouldn't be in very light winds so that it would be a challenge - the forecast for a Northerly F4-6 seemed to fit the bill very well!
Having prepared the boat and radioed in my trip report to Jersey Coastguard on VHF Ch 82, we set course for the NW Minquiers cardinal. I was treated to a glorious reach out past Noirmont and into the sunset under big gennaker. Mini Skippy was powered up and trucking along nicely. I furled and dropped the big gennaker around nightfall to continue under main and jib alone. 3 Gybes later and we'd passed the SW Minquiers cardinal.
A windshift to the NE meant that the course to the S Minquiers cardinal was closer to the wind than anticipated and we were humming along on a fast close reach. I was very perplexed not to make out the distinctive flashing light of the S Minquiers cardinal and so checked the GPS - I should have seen it so I assumed that it wasn't working and when we had passed the S Minquiers waypoint, I entered the SE Minquiers cardinal as our next Go To waypoint. We were still being headed and our fast close reach was becoming tighter by the minute. And a dark squall line was now visibly chasing us towards the chrome-finished moonlight.
6 and a bit miles later, the SE Minquiers cardinal appeared from the darkness less than 100m away - I didn't get to see it's 3 Flashes or hear its bell either. At least I had seen this one.
With the gusts now increasing in strength to 28 kts, I promised myself I would change down to my storm jib if I saw 30 kts on the dial and I didn't have to wait long so out came the storm jib. After a battle of wills on the foredeck, and a fair amount of shouting at Neptune I had dropped my reefed jib and was now under 2 reefs in the main and storm jib still making 5 - 6kts close-hauled.
The western edge of Chausey was about 4 miles away but the loom of the Grande Ile light with its range of 23M lit up my eastern horizon like white phosphorous, competing with the now golden yellow moon.
Beating up through the start of the Déroute passage, getting thrown about by the increasing sea as the tide turned slowly northwards against the wind, I was very relieved to see the Ardentes buoy flashing in the distance although progress towards it was slow and nerve-wracking with the crashing of boat on wave. I sailed past the layline by 10 degrees and very thankfully because the wind shifted right again. My next mark was the W Cardinal La Basse Le Marié which I could see to starboard but it was going to be a long way to the layline (not to mention the 8 more hours of upwind to get N of Guernsey which had been my intention).
I made the NE Minquiers and could see the welcome flashes of the Frouquier Aubert - I was knackered, drained and home was clearly calling so I radioed Jersey Coastguard, changed my passage plan and headed home. The change in sea state and wind strength was dramatic under Jersey - I found I was enjoying sailing again!!! I didn't get my first 24h but it was a big experience and after 70nm, I was fit to sleep the whole of the next day!!
Reflection
Looking back now, I was ambitious with the course and had given myself an uninterrupted upwind leg of 45 NM and had split the downwind leg in two! So I would not even have been rewarded with a long sleigh ride!! Tide wise, it was neaps and I had timed my departure to ensure that I would have a fair tide on the upwind leg. This was perhaps foolhardy since it meant wind-against tide conditions upwind, not particularly a strong point for Mini's..... and even more so between the Minquiers and Chausey and North towards the Ecrehous since the sea here is very shallow, often with less than 10m meaning that the wind and swell waves steepen and increase their amplitude as the bottom of the wave is slowed by friction against the sea floor and the top of the wave keeps travelling forwards.
I believe I also misinterpreted the "mainly moderate" sea state forecast. "Moderate" means that the significant wave height (or mean height of the biggest third of the waves) is between 1.25 - 2.5m. I thought that "mainly" was the forecasters being cautious and that it was more of an upper-bound for the sea-state. However, on reflection, it seems more likely that "mainly moderate" meant that there would be patches of "Rough" water, being anything from 2.5 - 4m. A good lesson learnt on reading what the forecast says rather than what I want the forecast to say.
First Solo Offshore Passage
Time flew like it does and suddenly my first race, the Duo Concarneau, was only 2 weeks away! But before that, my first solo offshore passage from Jersey to Concarneau. 220 NM retracing the first half of my first ever offshore race in 2014 on Morrina IV from Jersey to La Rochelle.
Wind
The prevailing wind direction in the Channel and on the North Brittany coast is SW which normally means that the first half of the passage to Concarneau is upwind. However, I was going to have somewhat different conditions for this mid-September passage.
I was setting off as a High pressure was trying to establish itself just North of the Pointe de Bretagne. The forecast progression was for the low West of Spain to push slightly East, for the nascent High pressure in the Channel to merge with the High pressure South of Iceland and move North. I was going to start off with NW'ly breeze, the pressure would rise, the breeze would fall then as the pressure dropped and the high passed over me, the wind would pick up from the NE under the influence of the low W of Spain.
This is shown very intuitively on the routing from Squid Mobile. The arrows represent the wind direction and each bar at the end is 10kts of wind (half a bar being 5kts). The arrows are also colour-coded according to wind direction and blue is very light moving through green to yellow for 20 kts.
Tide
Another key factor to consider on this passage is the tide because the tidal streams are strong, particularly around the Roches Douvres, Pointe St Mathieu and the Raz de Sein.
I had worked out the tidal gates using my SHOM tidal stream atlases and was aiming to arrive at the entrance to the Chenal du Four in the middle of the fair tide window but it was going to depend very much on the wind.
Because of the weather though, being late on the tide was not going to be such a problem for Mini Skippy and I because with the NE'ly breeze filling in, we would be reaching and would be able to overcome the tide.
As it turned out, we arrived off the Portsall buoy around 22h just as the tide stream was turning against us. Of course, this created a building wind against tide situation and it was time to shorten sail now we were reaching South through the blackness, flying past the channel markers and being dazzled by lighthouse after lighthouse.
We had been late leaving Jersey because I hadn't yet learnt about the position the throttle had to be in for the outboard to start and I had surely flooded the motor a few times before Steve Harris found me in the marina. With his mantra of "just keep pulling", the throttle now fully open, Steve was finally able to help me get the outboard started.
Roches Douvres / Stowaway
We made good speed with the outgoing tide towards the Roches Douvres until the tide turned, the wind dropped and the black night became an eery grey soup. No chance of seeing the Roches Douvres lighthouse which at 60m tall was lost high in the fog blanket. With no wind to speak of, I started the outboard to slow our drift backwards. 4hrs and a loop later, we were off again, still under outboard since there was still no wind.
When I went below to fetch more fuel for the outboard, I discovered that we had picked up a stowaway.
Crackle, Crackle
It was 7am and VHF Ch 16 came alive with the Semaphores (coastal lookout and signal stations) checking in with the relevant CROSS (French Coastguard). Each message was almost a carbon copy of the previous one said by a different voice. I did wonder whether I should join in and say hello too ! I reasoned that I had my AIS on so that if they wanted to get in touch, they could always call me. I was secretly disappointed that none of them did.
We continued motoring into the monochrome, windless day. With the greyscape being briefly interrupted mid-morning by the Plateau de Triagoz and the fleet of Merryfishers presumably out from Perros Guirec, only the other side of the Plateau.
I had only taken 10L of fuel for my outboard and was burning through just under 1L an hour so by mid-afternoon, I was down to my last 1.5L of fuel. I decided to keep this amount in reserve for entering Concarneau and so although the wind hadn't yet filled, it was time to sail. I had hoisted my big spinnaker to make the most of whatever breeze there was but still spent an hour averaging little more than 1kt over the ground. Eventually the breeze filled and we started to make progress towards the Portsall buoy and the start of the Chenal du Four. The last surprise of the day was a visit from a lone common dolphin - its yellowy flanks, a welcome change from the cloudy, monochrome world.
CRACKLE, CRACKLE
The greyscape was turning black by now but the radio had come alive. The CROSS was broadcasting a Bulletin Météorologique Spécial (BMS).
For the coastal zones, BMS are issued when the wind has reached or is expected to reach F7 or greater within the next 24hrs.
The NE'ly was going to come in stronger than my forecast had predicted although the direction and timing were consistent with the forecast I was working off.
I was anxious to reach the Chenal du Four before the wind increased but I thought this was very likely given my current position and hearing the BMS allowed me to be prepared to shorten sail.
So far I had managed a few cat naps but I don't think there were very successful and I was beginning to feel very tired however, arriving in the Chenal du Four gave me an adrenaline boost as I needed to concentrate on my navigation, picking up the channel markers in the right order. The wind increased as forecast and with the tide now having turned North, it was now wind-against-tide and time to reef down. With a double-reefed main and a jib we were absolutely flying, making 6 /7kts against the tide past the Pointe St Mathieu.
With the tough navigation out of the way, I was delighted to realise that we were lining up perfectly for a tidally-assisted slingshot through the Raz de Sein and on South past the Baie d'Audierne and towards Penmarc'h, the last big lighthouse before Concarneau.
Coming round Penmarc'h we were now close-hauled and would be for the duration. But the upwind was forgiven for the delight of sailing on such a sunny day with a beautiful blue sea. Concarneau was 20 NM away and I thought we'd be in in time to have a nap before dinner. However, it was such a nice day that the Sun had heated the land enough for the wind to die completely for almost 2 hrs from 14h. After some drifting around, the beautiful afternoon had tempted many crews out into the Anse de Bénodet. It was great to have company on the water!
It was goldilocks sailing past Bénodet and up to the Pointe de Mousterlin but then the breeze picked up to over 20kts. I really just wanted to make it in to Concarneau and I knew that the increase in breeze would mean more leeway and less VMG. After a period of resentful denial with Mini Skippy sailing on her ear, I finally relented and reefed down for what I hoped were the final few tacks. 7 tacks later and I could see the Petit Taro and the Lué Vras buoy marking the entrance to Concarneau. Since I was tired and unfamiliar with the entrance, I was loathe to tack through such a narrow passage and so I dropped the sails and started the outboard.
In my desire to simply arrive, I had dropped my sails far too early and with the outboard going full pelt, I was just about making a grand 2 kts towards Concarneau with still over a mile to go to the marina. It took almost an hour to reach the marina and I was seriously worried that I was going to run out of fuel since I had only saved 1.5L! Finally, I turned in before the castle, found an empty berth and moored up!! Wow!! Was I hungry!!!
First Race
Having arrived well in advance of the start, Mini Skippy and I had time to prepare and morph from passage mode into race mode. Having arrived by sea, this meant lots of trips carrying gear off the boat to store it ashore while we did the race. Just before leaving, I had made a last-minute purchase of a 125L dry bag rucksack at Gone Paddling and this rucksack was perfect for the job - it's so big, I fit into it!!!!
Postponement
The race we'd signed up for was a double-handed 300 NM sprint around South Brittany. However, the weather had other plans.
The shipping forecast on the original race day read:
WIND -Northwest 7 to severe gale 9
SEA STATE - Very rough or rough
The organisers therefore made the wise decision to postpone racing and to shorten the course. The modified course was a 115 NM sprint around Belle-Ile and back via Groix.
Routing
I was lucky to be racing with Florian Quenot, Mini Skippy's previous owner, who had agreed to show me the ropes. The warning signal was at 12h00 so we had time in the morning to run a final routing on Squid X with the latest AROME model and the MyOcean IBI current model.
The start was going to be very light downind until the centre of the Low pressure had moved over us. Then the wind was going to build to a fresh F6 and shift left.
There was one important tactical option to play which was to sail fast to reach the left shift between Belle Ile and Groix which would then allow us to lay the SE corner of Groix in one tack. This type of strategy is often described in French as an "aile de mouette" or a seagull's wing because the shape which the track makes looks like a very simple drawing of a seagull.
PREP DONE = > TIME TO RACE
It's quite something to be lining up on a start line with 60 other Mini's and for my first race, I was very glad to be double-handing and to have a light-wind start! Florian and I were in two minds about starting tactics - starting at the committee boat would mean a tighter and faster wind angle to the first mark but to leeward of the fleet (bit of a dilemma). With just over a minute to go we saw wind at the pin end and so decided to start there. We had an amazing start, winning the pin end - now the challenge was to make the first mark without being rolled. A clean spi hoist and we'd be away. But it wasn't to be, the spi popped beautifully but sideways !!! A drop and a re-hoist and we were now chasing the leaders and it was a constant battle to stay to windward but to still be able to squeeze past the first mark.
Having squeezed past the first mark within touching distance, the lead boats luffed slightly to sail a higher and faster angle and this caused every boat after to try and sail the same line if not higher creating a slow-motion procession. Florian and I thought saw a little gust and thought we would be able to use it to sail away from and underneath the rest of the boats but this was a disaster. What little wind there was was completely disturbed by the time it reached us and we were glued to the water.
The transition zone was a huge relief with the prospect of more wind. There was a huge buzz of activity as spinnakers were dropped, gennakers hoisted and every boat seemed to be sailing a different angle.
Soon the breeze filled in and we were all off, charging towards Belle Ile. We had our big gennaker but the Wind angle was infuriatingly just on the limit between big gennaker and medium spinnaker. In the right shifts, we would catch up rapidly on the boats who had hoisted kites and then in the left shifts, we would watch as they sailed away. It turned out that the sail to have for this reach was a code 5. Although, we may well have been better sailing higher than the rhumb line with the gennaker and then coming down on a better angle for our kite. But at the back of our minds was the extra distance this would mean in such a close fleet. And with the wind picking up, there was quite a fine balance to be found in sailing the rhumb line or sailing very fast in the wrong direction!!!
Belle Ile came up very fast as the wind had built to 25kts with gusts to 30kts and we were easily averaging 13-14kts with top speeds of 16kts! Rounding the island as the sun set was magical but now it was time to "serrer les fesses" and hang on for the nightime upwind.
We rounded the Pte du Skeul and started to feel the swell building and soon we were pounding our way upwind. As the last of the twilight left the sky, a constellation of red and green nav lights appeared all around us. The racing fleet filled the AIS screen and herd-like we were on starboard tack heading for the left shift that our routings had forecast. It came gradually, imperceptibly at first and then their started to be more and more West in our heading than there was North. A quick check of our race prep and the GPS and it was time to tack.
We slid past Groix heading for our next mark the Banc des Truies W Cardinal just outside Lorient. Now it paid to be switched on because there were some tacks to do and tacks meant crossings. Boats on starboard have priority over boats on port but it is everyone's responsibility to avoid collisions. Not being familiar with Lorient, I had a minor scare when we tacked just underneath the bows of a containership and I thought I saw a bow wave. It was of course, anchored and the waves breaking on its bulbous bow were causing the 'bow wave'!!
Next up was the Jaune de Glénan, an East Cardinal guarding the Plateau de la Basse Jaune. By now the sea state was far more manageable and we weren't crashing over waves any more. There was time to enjoy a beautiful nightime view of Groix, illuminated in flashes of 4 by the Pen Men lighthouse before trundling on towards the intimidating flashing red light of Penfret.
After passing the Jaune de Glénan, the best tidal strategy was to hug the Glénan islands as close as possible to stay out of the tidal stream. I was becoming seriously tired by now, having helmed most of the way upwind. In my mind the finish really wasn't far away but beating against the tide made for slow progress and the tacking angle of the Maxi of around 100 degrees didn't make it any better! I also became unsure of my waypoints in the GPS and so I was extremely loathe to go and play very near the rocks or to go and dig out my charts from underneath the stack of gear.
After far too many tacks, La Voleuse was only one tack away and I saw the boat just ahead of us preparing their big gennaker for the straight-line sprint to the finish outside Concarneau. At the end of a long night, we weren't very switched on and had completely forgotten about anticipating the wind angle on the next leg. Florian prepared everything as fast as possible while I tried to keep us in the match with the Maxi ahead of us. I fluffed the tack at the mark big time and we were almost dead in the water and watching the boat ahead slip away. Up went the gennaker but the halyard was the wrong side of the forestay..... so down came the gennaker, halyard was unclipped and an eternity later, we were catching up.
Approaching the Lineun cardinal, we started to be effected by the water pouring out of the Baie de Port la Foret. To stay on course I luffed up which gaves us a better wind angle as well but I overdid it and was forced to bear away to make the Lué Vras port hand marker. The Maxi ahead of us had done the reverse, they had let themselves drift down in the current to be able to head up afterwards and this proved to be a much faster tactic.
Suddenly, a proto slipped past us to windward and we saw that the boats behind were catching up under spinnaker. The finish line was so close - close-quarters racing tactics kicked in and it was now essential to keep Mini Skippy between our competitors and the finish. Much weaving later and we were relieved not to have lost a place in the final 100m. I was ready for coffee and breakfast!!
Solo Return Delivery Passage to Jersey
First race finished, the next race, the Calvados Cup, was approaching fast. After a day to recover from the lack of sleep during the Duo Concarneau, it was time to prepare for the return passage to Jersey where I would pick up my next co-skipper and we would head off to Deauville. Or at least, that was the plan.
The breezy conditions of the race gave way to an area of very little pressure gradient centred in the middle of France. My passage was going to start off in fine weather but with little or no wind. The sky would then become somewhat overcast under the influence of the front still hanging around across Biscay and then by evening, the wind would build ahead of the advancing low pressure system. And build it was going to - again it was a race reach the Pointe de Bretagne ahead of the front and then to sail as fast as possible to reach Jersey before the front came through.
Time to get fuel - the petrol pump at the top of the ramp in Concarneau was cordoned off with tape so I duly went to the Capitainerie to find out whether I could get fuel. I was incredulous when they said that they no longer sold fuel at the marina and that the nearest petrol station was the E Leclerc on the main road out of town. There was nothing for it but to make the trek to E Leclerc with my jerrycans and fill up amidst the cars in front of many bemused faces. I hadn't managed to find a 10L fuel can and so I was again only going to have 10L total of fuel for the return passage. This was less than ideal but given the forecast, I planned to need only 7 or 8 hours of fuel before I would be able to sail, again leaving me enough 1 - 2L of fuel (1-2hrs motoring) to get into harbour at the end of the passage.
I left Concarneau under beautiful sunshine and with the last of the ebb tide, Mini Skippy made good progress towards Penmarc'h before the tide turned off Lesconil and progress slowed slightly. By Le Guilvinec, there was easily a knot of 2 of tide against and after avoiding a number of fishing boats coming in to land their catch, we tucked in to the shoreline and had some magnificent views of Penmarc'h just before sunset accompanied by a pod of dolphins.
The Baie d'Audierne then opened up before us and we set our sights on the Raz de Sein. The breeze was taking its time in arriving so we continued under motor and were eventually caught by a Figaro 3 (also under motor).
We passed the Raz in darkness, our slow progress round Penmarc'h and across the Baie d'Audierne setting us up nicely for a tidally assisted run through the Raz and on to the Pointe St Mathieu and the Chenal du Four beyond.
CRACKLE, CRACKLE
Another Mini had seen me on AIS and so we had a chat and agreed to watch out for each other. The wind had by now picked up enough to be able to go faster under sail, so I hoisted by biggest spinnaker and started to make really good time towards the Pointe St Mathieu.
2 gybes later and I passed within what felt like touching distance of the Vieux Moines Lateral marker but on the GPS turned out to be 0.25nm.
The wind was picking up and given the forecast, the relatively long gybe ahead gave me time to drop my big spinnaker and replace it with my medium spinnaker which I hoisted reefed ready for the reach at 120/130 TWA along the N Brittany coast.
2 more gybes and I was heading straight through the Platresses channel markers and out into the Channel. I gybed when the Portsall W Cardinal was at 060 and in theory I was set for a long reach all the way home.
Sunrise came, quickly followed by breakfast which was very much needed. The tide had turned against us but we were still making 7 - 8 kts towards home. The wind started picking up and a reef in the main helped to balance the boat.
Passing the Aman ar Ross cardinal, the sea was starting to pick up and I met a yacht having a hard time heading the other way - a broach later and it was time for me to drop the kite and continue under reefed main and solent.
With less sail I wanted a closer angle to keep up the high speed reach home so I took the opportunity to sail very deep by goose-winging and I found Mini Skippy to be extremely well behaved in this configuration.
Once I had a better angle, I luffed up and pointed for Jersey. I was soon taking some very welcome surfs straight towards home. A check on the GPS off the Ile de Batz and I found I was headed very close to the Plateau de Triagoz - another reset was needed and I headed deep off the wind again.
I took the chance to reef my solent since the wind was only getting stronger and once I had a suitable offing, I luffed up again and started to count the miles until the Roches Douvres.
Mini Skippy was starting to really accelerate now, regularly exceeding 14/15kts and with the wind coming up and up, I took another reef in the main and pulled on the baby stay. This gave me peace of mind and seemingly didn't slow us down very much at all.
We were very soon at the Roches Douvres and I was starting to feel very tired and looking forward to getting in to St Helier. The wind was now 25kts gusting 35kts and we were surfing at up to 18.5kts before careering into walls of water, Mini Skippy's bow sending spray upwards in an almost perfect semi-circle.
I checked the GPS and the surfing was seriously impacting our course over the ground - it was touch and go whether we would make Corbiere. I wondered whether to go for it but then I thought about the sea state off Corbiere and off Noirmont - already out here, the sea was huge, I didn't want to even try the Western approach to St Helier.
I needed some sea room and so I dropped the Solent, hoisted my storm jib and took a 3rd reef in my main. This allowed me to luff up and start clawing my way South of East which was important because this was going to allow me to approach St Helier from the South and avoid the overfalls off Corbiere and Noirmont.
A few calls to Jersey Coastguard later and I was very comforted to know that Halcyon, the harbour dory, would be able to help me berthing when I would get to the harbour.
There were only a few miles to go and Jersey was in spitting distance but I still had to choose which passage to approach through because although it was approaching High Water, the size of the waves meant I really didn't want to risk going over any of the reefs.
The wind direction was E of South and I didn't want to approach dead downwind to avoid gybing (even with 3 reefs in the main) and the waves were W of South. I considered my options and although I had wanted to approach through the Eastern channel, the wind direction made this complicated so I chose the Danger Rock passage which although narrow has a great advantage because Fort Regent provides a great landmark to head for (although even it was completely hidden behind the waves that were rolling under Mini Skippy).
I was still wondering how I was going to slow down because even through the passage with only a storm jib and 3 reefs in my main at 150 - 160 TWA, I was still surfing at 10kts. The Platte beacon came very quickly and I could bear away another ten degrees.
Now slightly in the shelter of the breakwater I dropped my main so I only had the square top still in the track to provide some drive and I was seriously relieved to see the speedo dropping down to 5kts.
I made the harbour entrance, dropped my sails and asked Halcyon to tow me to the Isolation berth where I was going to be staying the night - I was never so grateful to be tied up to a floating piece of metal before!!!!
Calvados Cup
We had been supposed to arrive in Jersey, re-supply, pick up my co-skipper, Tom and head off to Deauville but the weather was not on our side. A low had rapidly intensified in the wake of the system which had blasted me back along the North Brittany coast and it had taken up residence mid-Channel. The forecast was for 30 - 40kts constant for about a week.
Combined with the increasing COVID restricions in Normandy, we decided that we weren't going to be able to make the race but that we would try again next year!!!
Credits:
Julian Adamson